


Beautiful

by notrlyanonymous



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alex is anxious, Bare Skin, Bisexual Alexander Hamilton, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gay John Laurens, I Ship It, Kissing, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, POV John Laurens, Past Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens, Sharing a Bed, Whispering, dO yOu FEel iT NOW mR KraBS???, lams 4 lyfe, lmao ignore that last one, no genitalia are described dw, no shirts, pre-eliza hammy boi, still the origianl universe but before alex married eliza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-09-29 21:15:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17211095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notrlyanonymous/pseuds/notrlyanonymous
Summary: "It's just the two of us. Us two alone. I promise"





	1. Chapter 1

_No amount of closeness could quench this thirsty desire.  
No amount could ever be enough._

It's an addictive drug of an instinct. There are bright feelings of movement and touch, skin flares against calloused, slender fingertips, careful yet sure. Sweet swollen lips and tongues are folding against one another, hands explore every inch of body. Eyes are lidded and dilated, drinking in every part of his frame. His hair is knotted and glossy, his body smooth and confident. Pink nails skim effortlessly across bends and curves, leaving red lines in their wake. Mindless hands travel up and down my back, tracing nonsensical trails in warm flesh. Sharp sensations dance tentatively where his mouth plants kisses; down my neck, on my collarbone, slowly making their way down to my buckle.

_"Alex.."_ I gasp.

"Do you want to stop?" he says. Anxiety tickles this words.

I barely hear him. I only look up because there is a cold patch where his hands have left my waist. I'm in some kind of hazy delirium, and my thoughts are clouded with desire. It takes me a moment to form coherent words:

"Please," I breath "don't stop."

He pulls me up and kisses me. I feel him smile against my mouth. It's pure and real, true and reassuring.

His thumbs rise up to brush at my cheek and warm breath sweeps behind my left earlobe. I feel his croaky voice say:

_"Beautiful."_

Waves of skipping butterflies now inhabit the pit of my gut. I feel inflated. Nothing else matters now; I feel as if I could do anything. Every doubt, every insecurity is instantly washed away and the hem of the word.

_Beautiful_ has so many uses. It can be used to describe scenery or objects, art: a paint brush on a canvas; sound: birds chirping over the babble of the river; taste: a warm bowl of soup on a rainy day; feel: candle wax or paper; and people (Alex in this case). And it's powerful. It makes you feel that you are, indeed, beautiful. It fills every crevice of being, every corner.

My heart is ballooning, expanding and singing it's beating song. Hot blood courses through veins and every nerve is alive; alive with lust, and passionate love and care. Every cell and every fiber wants more, more, more!

My hand comes up to cup his face and I pull away.

"John?" he asks.

There it is, that voice I love so much. My eyes travel down his arms to his hands. His fingers are rough from writing so often; they have molded to his quill like a glove. I shift my gaze back up to his face. I love those eyes. God, those eyes. You get lost in them. They swallow you whole and you drift away in admiring their color. They're that deep dark brown color. But not that shitty kind, the nice kind. The one that reminds you of acorns or wood bark.

I let my hands fall down to his and lean forward so my lips are right below his ear, and I whisper:

"I love you _so much_ , Alexander. So goddamned much it hurts."

And it's true. There are no limits to what I feel for him. It's this perpetual expanse of love that vastly expands every time he smiles or laughs, or when he fiddles with his 2nd button from the top when he gets bored.

He doesn't say anything, but I find myself not caring or even allowing myself to be surprised he doesn't speak a word back. I just want him. So. Badly.

...

We continued that night, and I know no words to describe the waves of deep pleasure that overtook my body, that burst from my mouth in deep guttural sounds I didn't know I could make. My muscles were still twitching when my eyelids were about to drift off to sleep with his arms pressed into my bare stomach. As I felt myself being pulled down into the depths of slumber, I felt his lips move to whisper into the back of my neck.

"I love you too, John. Don't you ever forget that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so  
> This is my first attempt at a fanfic  
> I originally wrote this down in a weird poem-like mood and then i decided to post it :D  
> Feel free to leave feedback!  
> au revoir y'all
> 
> -notrlyanonymous


	2. I've never forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Guess what!"  
> "What?"  
> "I'm getting married!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyheyhey  
> so this just happened  
> i'm planning on making a long story but idk weather to use OCs or hamilton characters  
> pls help. it would be très très utile if you could help me decide. thanx :)  
> au revoir y'all  
> -notrlyanonymous

There's a kind of envy that comes with your lovers happiness.  
A kind of wrenching, twisting worm that eats away at everything. Tears become a burden. They build pressure behind your eyes; at any given moment, the walls could break open, and the flood gates could step aside. You have to stay strong long enough; long enough that you can speak to him without bawling out your hearts despair. But when you allow sweet release, once you reach the private sanctuary of your room, all hell breaks loose and the tears start being dragged up from somewhere deep inside; a dark pit of sorrow and misery. It's a really ugly way of crying. Your face gets all scrunched like a letter, hideous noises erupt unchained, and your body curls up into a ball, and you try to hide and disappear.  
You try to vanish and never come back. An organ starts to play and everyone rises to their feet. My muscles refuse to move but I force them to. The doors open and there stands a ghastly flare of white light. And there she is, the beautiful bride. Even through my gay haze, she's so beautiful. I don't hate her, she's kind beyond relief! She's the type who would forgive you even if you cheated on her or killed her child or whatever. And she's so graceful; like a goddess. Her steps are smooth and sure, almost as if she's floating instead of walking.

Why couldn't I be like that?  
Why _can't_ I be like that?

"Should anyone here present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace."

It's the line I've been waiting for for the past hour.  
My finger twitches. My hand starts to move.  
But then he looks at me. There's pure joy in his face that I could never provide for him. But there's a knowing look behind his eyes too;  
pleading.

I clench my fist and I don't say anything. I plaster on a fake smile.

"You may now kiss the bride."

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so  
> This is my first attempt at a fanfic  
> I originally wrote this down in a weird poem-like mood and then i decided to post it :D  
> Feel free to leave feedback!  
> au revoir y'all
> 
> -notrlyanonymous


End file.
